


And I regret everything (but regret does not change the past)

by CallaMyosotis



Series: Forward is the only way to go [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath of RHatO #25, Female Jason Todd, I found this fanfic that I wrote a few years ago and decided to just set it free, M/M, Magazines, Mentioned Jason Todd, Post-Red Hood and the Outlaws #25, So.. there's that, You can all suffer with me now, always-a-girl Jason Todd, i don't know how to tag, let me know if I missed anything, mentioned Roy Harper, teenage me thought Jaslyn was a good name for female Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26230501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallaMyosotis/pseuds/CallaMyosotis
Summary: Sometimes you say things - you do things - that you can't take back. Sometimes you have to learn that the hard way.Or: Bruce is miserable, Dick is angry and Jaslyn is moving on.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Series: Forward is the only way to go [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905283
Comments: 15
Kudos: 119





	And I regret everything (but regret does not change the past)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,
> 
> I just found this fic I wrote a few years ago again and decided to let it loose on the internet. I haven't actually changed anything besides a few grammatical mistakes I caught (not even that horrendous name I chose for fem!Jason) and my mother tongue isn't English, so I hope this isn't too horrible. Considering that I haven't really written and finished anything since 2016 (I think?) when I stopped regularly updating on my old German fanfic account, I would read this expecring horrible grammar along with a horrible story.
> 
> This actually uses a characterization for Jason that I don't agree with anymore, but even if today I would write him differently, I still like it well enough. You don't see too much of him (or her, in this case) in this fic anyway. It's part of a series of which I only have the next two parts finished, so I might post them here as well sometime the next few weeks.
> 
> The title is from Cher's "If I could turn back time" and the summary is horrible because I had neither until two minutes before I pushed the post button and I'm horrible with titles and summaries anyway, so that's as good as it will get.
> 
> I think that was everything important I had to say... as I already stated in the Tags: I really have no idea how to tag, so let me knowif I missed anything really important so I can add it.
> 
> That said, I apologize for my grammar and typing one last time and hope you enjoy!

“BRUUUUCE!“

If Bruce hadn’t been used to it – and Batman, which is always at least a little bit relevant, no matter what his kids liked to say –, he might have dropped his cup of coffee. As it is, he only almost dropped it and instead flinched hard enough to splash the still hot beverage over his hands. He just barely swallowed a hiss and put the cup down to start wiping up the mess with a tissue from the box in the corner of his desk bevor It could seep onto any important Wayne Enterprises papers. Well, now he knew why Alfred always pursed his lips disapprovingly when he took food or drinks to his study.

It took surprisingly long for his home office door to burst open – long enough to hastily clean up the mess and lean back in his chair like nothing had happened. If there was something Dick didn’t need to know, it was that he still had the power to startle Bruce after all these years. Especially not since he was still mostly furious for what happened with Ja-

Anyway, the steps only slowly growing louder made it clear that Dick had been further away than his voice had suggested. Bruce was reminded to never underestimate his oldest lung capacity when he screamed again, this time apparently right in front of the door, and it rang out loud enough to wake the dead. The door burst open and made contact with the wall behind it with a loud “Thump!” Bruce winced internally. He definitely would let Dick take the brunt of the argument with Alfred that would undoubtly follow after that. He couldn’t really risk another fight with his father figure so soon. The old butler had just started talking to him again after…

Dick looked… like he had gone mad, to be honest. Bruce had never seen his son this dishelved and that included all the times he had come home from patrol with mussed up hair and black eyes and tears in his eyes from not flipping up the lenses of his mask when swinging against the wind. Now, his face was pale and his eyes were wide and filled with a kind of wonder somewhere between sadness and glee. He was panting and his shirt looked like it was the first thing he had grabbed of the floor before running around in a hurry – not that that was something special. Slightly more concerning, though, was the fact that he wasn’t wearing any pants to accompany his fairly… interesting look.

“Bruce”, he panted, almost doubling over. Which had to mean he raced there from either the kitchen or his room, both of which were far enough from his study to justify someone who was usually running around like a madman all night being out of breath. “Bruce. I was just – going to get me – a drink. There were this – gossip ma-magazines.” Every few words, he had to stop to gulp in air and Bruce strained his ears to make his words out anyway. “Y’know like – like always. And there – you _need_ to see this.”

And then there was a mess of reflecting paper and way too colourful pictures interfered by small, black letters thrust into his face. Bruce extracted the magazine from his son’s trembling hands – Bruce really started to wonder what in the world could have happened to upset Dick this severly. Then his face fell on the title picture, taking over almost all the page, and he felt the colour drain from his skin all the way down to his neck. There, on some cheap magazine called ‘Gotham Whisperer’ was a full body shot of his first daughter. And it wasn’t a bad one, either. It had to have been taken from less than ten foot away and showed the young woman walking, her leather jacket thrown over one shoulder, a light-pink milkshake firmly clasped in the other hand while she balanced her phone between her ear and shoulder, seemingly unaware of the photo being taken. If her casual posture despite the camera hadn’t been enough to tip Bruce off that she had been very well aware that she would be in the news today, a smaller picture at the bottom of the page that had Jaslyn smiling her most radiant cocky grin directly into the camera lens would have proven it.

She looked… good. She was wearing wide trousers, the kind that young people called ‘fashion’ these days, and a black band tee. Her hair was open, though it only fell to her shoulders and looked like it had been straightened as opposed to the wild locks that had still reached her back only three weeks ago. Her brown boots and matching leather jacket looked scruffed, but not enough for him to believe it were the same she had worn when he-

If it hadn’t been for the last remains of yellow bruising around her left eye and a few – a lot – nasty scraps all around her face, especially on the upper edge of her jaw and her forehead, he would have thought it was an old picture, found somewhere in the depths someone’s archive. But the bruises and the wide pants – a sure sign that her legs were not good enough to be put through the torture of skinny jeans or be shown off in the shorts Jaslyn would undoubtedly normally wear with that kind of weather. The weather was another point that caught Bruce’s attention. It looked to be sunny and warm and there were a lot of people in scarce clothing and sunglasses in the background, not too subtly staring at his daughter. It couldn’t be anywhere near Gotham or the East Coast at all.

“What are you waiting for!” Dick’s impatient voice almost had him startling. Almost. At least the old irritation was back. He had been beginning to grow worried about the lack of the hostility Dick had been practically broadcasting towards him ever since… that night. “Read it! The picture isn’t going to tell you how much you fucked up.” What finally had Bruce fumbling to open the magazine on the right page was the lack of venom in Dick’s voice. He wasn’t waiting for Bruce to crumble and drown in his regret. He was hoping to get it over with and be there if Bruce should break down. If Dick didn’t want to express his disappointment with this, it had to be bad. And Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a tiny bit anxious to find out just how bad exactly.

 _She looked fine_ , a little voice in his said murmered comfortingly. It sounded a lot like his mother and helped settle his inner turmoil a little. _It can’t be too bad, she looked healthy. She looked happy. She is fine._

Or as fine as you can be when you own father beats you to a bloody pulp because his punching bags aren’t enough anymore **,** a manic voice cackled and Bruce’s hackles rose again.

The voices shut up when he finally found the right page and his eyes fell upon the headline.

_GOTHAM’S PRINCESS LEAVES THE NEST – NEW LIFE, OLD LOVE?_

Well, that wasn’t too reassuring.

There were more pictures on the colourful double page. The giant one from the front page was printed on the entire left side and served as the background for the text there. The picture of her laughing face had been framed in a pink bubble and put in the upper right corner while a whole row of small pictures took the bottom of both pages and showed Jaslyn in the process of pushing her hair back from her face while turning her head and staring straight at the photographer, a small, mysterious smile on her face. Now that Bruce paid more to attention to it, it was striking how… _honest_ it looked. There hadn’t been to many occasions when he had seen his daughter’s face this open and inviting, nevermind grinning as big as in the bubble-picture.

_Gotham’s very own princess Jaslyn P. Wayne (or is it Todd again? ;) ) (23) has been spotted in Star City early this afternoon. After the rumours of her having left her place of birth behind, I couldn’t pass up the chance to have a word with her – or a few more._

Star City? He shouldn’t be surprised. It _had_ been the damned archer to drag her away from Bruce before he could get her the psychiatric help she so clearly needed. Sure, he had been going about it very, very wrong, but in the end, it really had been a precaution to make sure she had to sit through therapy and couldn’t escape, at least partly – ~~maybe not as much as it had been getting rid of his own frustration, but the afterthought had been there~~. Though, taking another peek at the pictures of her practically radiating face, he felt doubt nagging at the edge of his mind. Maybe it hadn’t been a fluke of the moment shot at Penguin after all. Maybe she had had a reason to not-quite-kill Cobblepot (though the not-quite part was something Bruce would have appreciated to know before he went off to tear into his own child).

_Originally, I was in the city of sun and hot blonde billionaires (sorry, Brucie, but Olli Queen has his perks, too, and anyone who says otherwise clearly hasn’t seen those arms) for the annual Queen Birthday Party that includes about anyone and everyone famous, pretty and not bearing the Wayne name or reputation. Not even Jaslyn Wayne has made an appearance when she and Oliver Queen’s ward, Roy Harper (28), had been officially dating and, like every year so far, there really hadn’t been a hint of Gotham’s royality at the pool party with everything one could desire – exquisite food, rich-people-booze and beautiful faces wherever the eye falls._

_So imagine my surprise when I’m on my way to the airport the next day – thankfully on time and with enough spare minutes to engage in a short conversation (not that I would have missed this exclusive interview for anything, not even a first class flight back to the east coast) – and see a certain young woman strolling down the main plaza near the beach, seemingly busy chatting on her phone and allowing herself the pleasure of a raspberry-blueberry milkshake._

_Sure, Jaslyn Todd has had better days, but even with the remains of what had doubtlessly once been a nasty black eye and a way of holding herself that still seems to be slightly stiff, she looks stunning._

Bruce ripped his eyes away from the article to look at the pictures again. The full-body one in particular. The fact that a civilian could see it at all is certificate for how bad Jaslyn had to have been hurting. Not that he was surprised. He could see the way her movement was stilted and careful, even through the series of pictures at the bottom. Not that there was any other way it could have been different; he had heard her ribs crack when he had broken them, after all.

_The crown princess of Gotham doesn’t waste time spotting me and waltzing right over. Close up I can also get a better look at her face and all the tiny and bigger scraps all over it. Some of them even look like they might scar. If I didn’t know better, I might even have thought she had gotten in another one of the brawls she had been so famous for before her mysterious disappearance and being pronounced dead almost eight years ago. But considering the scraps, someone would have had to shatter a bottle or two over her head to create this picture of dishelvement. Still, I can’t keep myself from asking._

**_“Not this time”_ ** _, Jaslyn laughs, throwing her head back a little. It is one of the brightest smiles the Wayne beauty has ever let someone capture on photo (picture top right) and I can’t keep myself from smiling along a little. **“I wasn’t actually out lookin’ for somethin’. This time.”** She gives a cocky grin and wink. **“I just managed ta piss someone off spectacularly ‘n they decided tha’ kicking the shit outta me was the solution for all thei’ problems, y’know?”** It’s been a long time since I can remember last hearing Jaslyns lower Gotham accent and I revel a little in nostalgia even as her shocking tale grips my heart in an iron grip. Holding my breath, I ask her if it was really bad. If she is going to press assault charges – the injuries I can spot would really justify it and I don’t doubt that she was hiding more under her admirably fashionable clothes._

**_“Nah, ‘m just gonna stay outta their way from now on. Already made my mind up ‘bout Gotham, anyway. Not gonna go back, don’t haveta see ‘em or deal with ‘em ever again.”_ ** _I stop short. Leave Gotham? Surely, I must have misheard. Jaslyn Wayne has always been Gothamite blood and bone, I couldn’t really see a way for her to leave Gotham for real at all, especially not now after reconciling with her family not even two years ago. I promptly inform her of that and get a hearty laugh for an answer._

**_“Me and the Waynes have drawn a closin’ line. Shouldda done that a whole while ago.”_ ** _She smiles, again, apparently not regretting the break with her family at all. I begin to wonder what I have missed to not see this development coming. **“It’s really not much of a big deal. We’ve all kinda seen that comin’ a long way – ‘least I’ve. Never really fitted in ‘gain after comin’ back ‘n all. Was always kinda weird, so ‘m not too surprised that it finally wore itself out. Really almost relieved that now I don’t haveta worry ‘bout when it finally comes down ta it anymore. ‘S over ‘n I gotta move on. Change my name ‘n everythin’.”** At that, I perk up. My brain is still trying to process the fact that our princess is apparently leaving Gotham and her family behind and so I latch onto a fact I can process._

_“Change your name?”, is my next question. I inquire if she intends to go back to Todd or has other plans for her future. At that, her grin turns shark-like and I become intrigued once again._

**_“We haven’t actually decided that yet. ‘M all for it, but Roy still insists that Harper has a nicer ring to it. But I think Jaslyn ‘n Roy Todd sounds quite great, too.”_ ** _I am left speechless and grab her hand for closer inspection when she offers it. And, in fact, on her left hand, which I haven’t been able to see while she was walking and didn’t have my focus on during our conversation, sparkles a quite admirable diamond ring. Looking closer, I can even make out the little arrow crossing a heart on the underside of it (photo p. 18)._

Bruce stares at the article blankly for a moment before he fumbles to turn pages. And, in fact, there is a close-up of a tellingly calloused, relatively big hand with fading words scribbled all over it – the only things he can still make out are ‘dinner 8pm’ and ‘tell OQ to fuck off’ and ‘Sunday call to T’ and some things that look like doodles in someone else’s handwriting – and an elegant silver ring with a small diamond on top on the ring finger.

Bruce can’t breathe. He thinks he catches phrases like **_“Oh, ‘s an engagement present from Ollie. He was kinda pissed that Roy chose a former Wayne, but we get along alright.”_** and **_“We think we mighta go for a fall wedding, but nothin’s for sure yet.”_** but he can’t be sure considering the magazine is blurring in front of his eyes.

His daughter was going to get married. She was going to get married to _Roy Harper_ of all goddamn people and he wouldn’t have known hadn’t it been for some cheap gossip article. And she was living on the other side of the country right now and she still moved like every step hurt and it was _all his fault_. And she smiled like she was happy nonetheless. Like she hadn’t since she had been fifteen and flying at his side and she was doing so without him. Claiming to leave the family behind and, yeah, he had disowned her, but he had meant _Red Hood_ from the _Bats_ , not his little girl from the Waynes and he. Can’t. Breathe.

It might be good that Dick had stayed and waited for him to read after all considering Bruce wasn’t sure anything could have stopped him from booking a flight to Star City then and there otherwise.


End file.
